


Puppies

by eledhwenlin



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-31
Updated: 2012-05-31
Packaged: 2017-11-06 10:50:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/418014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eledhwenlin/pseuds/eledhwenlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan misses Hobo. Spencer fixes that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Puppies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lucifuge5](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucifuge5/gifts).



> Written for [](http://lucifuge5.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**lucifuge5**](http://lucifuge5.dreamwidth.org/)'s prompt at the cuddle meme. This ficlet has no other purpose than to give you warm, fuzzy feelings. So read on if the thought of Ryan Ross holding a puppy gives you those.

Ryan doesn't miss Hobo. Well, sometimes. He doesn't miss her _all the time_ , which is the important part really.

Except right now, when Keltie has just picked Hobo up after the week she spent at Ryan's while Keltie was off doing dancey things (Ryan dimly remembers her telling him about judging a dance competition or another--he didn't really listen), when he's walked her three times a day and felt her weight at his feet while he was writing songs, his guitar on his lap, when they had play dates with Brendon and Bogart (coffee for the humans, dog park for the dogs), right now he misses her like a lost limb.

Spencer walks in five minutes later and sighs. "I brought stuff," he says. Ryan rolls them a joint, thanking Jon for teaching them how to do it properly ("years of practise," Jon had said with a wink).

The joint helps Ryan relax. Now it's more like a missing finger than a missing arm, something he can work around without much adjusting.

"Don't you think," Spencer says, slowly, his words warm and slow like molasses, Ryan should write that down, "that sharing custody of your dog isn't such a good idea?"

Ryan wants to lash out, say "Hobo's _my_ dog", but in truth, she's more Keltie's dog--it was Keltie who was around all the time, who really takes care of her. Ryan swallows. "I'm just the weekend dad," he says. "Like, I know my kids exist, but when they start talking about their friends, I don't know who their friends are."

Spencer pauses. "Right," he says.

"I want to be a full-time dad," Ryan says. "I'd be a good one."

"You would," Spencer says. Then they turn on the Food Network and spend the rest of the day watching people make cupcakes, eat disgusting food and be generally opinionated about butter and vinegar.

Ryan forgets about it. Mostly. He still misses Hobo.

And then one day he comes home to Spencer cleaning up what looks like pee. "Um," Ryan says. "What?"

"Um." Spencer points toward Ryan's rug. "We had an accident," he says. "He's still pretty little and not yet house-trained and--"

"What?" Ryan looks at his rug. There's a tiny fluffy black ball sitting there. No, not a ball--A PUPPY. "Spencer, WHAT?"

"His name is Rocky," Spencer says. "Um, you can rename him. He doesn't know it's his name yet, so--"

"Why is there a puppy on my rug?" Ryan keeps staring at it. Rocky sits there, big-eyed, big-eared, in the adorable puppyish clumsiness.

"I went by the shelter this morning," Spencer says. "Well, okay, I went a couple of times. Today I filled out the papers to get him."

"You--gave me a puppy," Ryan says.

"You wanted to be a full-time dad."

"Spencer," Ryan says. "Come here."

"I'm sorry," Spencer says. "I just wanted--"

Ryan pulls Spencer into the tightest hug he can manage. He's missed this when they weren't talking. But maybe it was supposed to be this way, so that Ryan can appreciate what he's got in Spencer now. "Thanks," Ryan says and he kisses Spencer softly. "You got me a puppy," he says, still only half-believing.

"Well, technically he's mine," Spencer says. "But since we share a house..."

"Okay," Ryan says. "Then we share the puppy. You get the cleaning duties and I'll get cuddling duties. Because he's _technically_ yours."

Spencer snorts. "I won't know the difference to you," he says.

Ryan snorts. "I will now go play with the puppy," he says. "You clean that up."

"Aye, aye," Spencer says, smirking.

Rocky isn't quite ready to play for long, though. Ryan throws the chewing bone Spencer bought three times and then Rocky's sitting down and yawning. Ryan settles them down on the couch, Rocky on his chest, remote in his hand.

"No dogs on the couch," Spencer says.

"Remind me of that the next time Brendon's over with Bogart."

Later Spencer settles down by Ryan's feet and starts to massage them unasked. This, Ryan thinks, is what family is supposed to be like.  



End file.
